With you gently I shall discuss
the present, your presents, your presence.
Words that stir me up and make me whole
There’s no tense like the past
the only better is the untense
of the now and how
we are at present.

“How I would have changed you!
I would have loved you, loved you, loved
you, cleaved and built and fenced us in,
forever and ever, us and
no one else, no, no one else,” you wrote.

And I reply, ah, yes that is true
while looking at my watch, calendar, future
and noting with the imperative of the presence tense:
You have changed, are changing, will always change me!
You have loved me, love me, love us
as we cleave and build and fence us in,
forever and ever, not to keep others out
but to keep us in, and in, and in, and in.

Your poem like all your poetry is a reflection
of now and hope and what burns brightest within
of what we are and will be and can begin
words that melted me and make me whole
commitments, trust, of us, our soul. 2 weeks ago

And I’ve been loved back too. It’s total. The only condition is that it be shared, and that’s been a great thing. 3 weeks ago

hear, here: anticipating and eager they are, blooming royal colour and perfect.2 months ago

Go to your computer. I want you to see. It’s the dress.

She bought it for me, for herself, for us. She knows I like what she likes. We are all about thoughts and words, and getting along famously, and more, like cooking and power tools and music and vigorous exercise within reason.

And we are a man and a woman too. I am a feminist and I love her femininity. She is a feminist and she loves my maleness. There is, in fact, great love.

She is right. It is a yowza dress. She is perfect and beautiful and I am the luckiest man in the world. Yowza. Yowza Yowza Yowza. 2 months ago

pounds with the guacamole of affection. My rib-meat brain slides delicately upon you, inviting you into the sauce-scented contours of Bellum and Bellum, Affections at Law. Hard candies shake and dance and pulse through my veins while gummies drill outward, seeking, seeking. And I ask, Do you want me? Do you? 3 months ago

said, in so many words, I am committed. Join me forever. I already have but she knows that. It’s not reassurance that makes it so great. It is the unsolicited reminder. We should all tell the ones we love how deeply we love them. We all need to know we are loved. 3 months ago

She leaned upon me and whispered of the pride of ownership as I made her ears change from that to this: shining, bright, new. Words and meanings curled into lobes, then the drums, and then all through her, pushing, clasping, until her lobes and cortex vibrated, making her squeally and radiant.

I am marked by her in ways that cannot be seen or heard. But they are always felt and eternal. Her words match me, then push beyond. And I whispered gently Golly! I sure am thirsty! in my best Wally-to-Beaver voice. 4 months ago

round ‘bout Bawl-moh, I’ll gather her, cleave, be there. Valentine’s Day is beginning. Again.

I pulled out the last valentine I got: a secret book of small words, art, poetry, images, poetry, all of us. She made it by hand and it is the most serious and perfect valentine ever presented.

I can hardly wait. There will be music, and dressing for dinner, and more, so, so much more. 4 months ago

At some fundamental level it is not quite enough to promise, to give, to commit fully and completely to her. She is alike. We both need to feel it matched from the other, deeply, completely, more than ever could be, follicles to toe nails, and deepest interiors to the last layer of epidermis. I wear her everywhere: small jewelry and brandings upon the soul, among other things. I wear her with pride and completely and all that I am. And I want more, then more.

She understands that if we give all of ourselves, we want all of ourselves to be accepted, otherwise it is a gift half wanted, half accepted and not enough. It is why I want her signs, everywhere, and mine to her. All. All. 4 months ago

a waking moment before light and after the dark, before aware and after the lift of consciousness. It is the golden hour of the mind and where she resides most closely to me. I am not asked to write love notes and never told to, I find them in these moments when nature rolls through me, shakes me, pets and straddles, and shows me what I most truly am. I am of her, especially in these moments, for they are not between anything really, but central and all, a hinge a fulcrum, a center. I love you Darling. 4 months ago

and poured it into her. We are atop l’tour. We always are at midnight. I watched it pour through, into, around her, wash and cling, spill where there was no purchase, and then I gather, her organs, flesh, hair and bones. Her smile and soul merge to me, pour forth a light of her, of Paris, of future. She wrapped herself in my gathering, my translucence, the milky light of our midnight. And I wrapped back. Her spasms, her fuel, her light washing and surging, retreating and surging, just like me until our souls were clean, and pure and more perfect than ever known. 5 months ago

was more than my time with her. She gives of her life, her hours and emotions. She is a whole and perfect woman for me. She is my woman and I am her man and it is a perfect natural fit.

I am not a religious man but I am moved to spirituality with her. We’ve moments that turned into hours and days. I’ve pushed her. Asked her to push. And she says/said/will say more, and more. I love the sound of your voice. Tell me. Show me.

We lay crumpled, close, sweet, exhausted. And there is more. It is close, perfect, and yes, what I think God’s love really is. 5 months ago

Not predator, she, but prey I am.

There is only a bit of pawing, toying. Just enough to get the bearings., extend real warmth. Then it is begun in earnest. Again. 7 months ago

I’ve ever known, ever believed might be. Ever even thought. We are imagination beyond imagination and it is all of love.

We are beyond the horizons, and the horizons past those, and better than the horizons past even those. There is more potential than the word potential offers. We are endless.

We are always, and will always be, just beginning. 7 months ago

Do you like it when I reach for you in this way?

I do. I want more and more and more. 7 months ago

Join me! Again and Again! It is Sunday! A day of leisure, newspapers sections passed between us while we linger on the sofa, legs entwined, coffee, ideas and quotations, small looks, the massage of toes and arches. Join me in the bright light of the morn’s warming sun, in the translucent pink of us from a good night’s sleep, while beads of water from the recent shower dry. I will feed you fresh berries, eggs scrambled just so, a rasher of bacon shared, while you gather the cossetting and petting and small attentions of Sunday.

And when we go back for a second sleep, a drifting of the spirit and will of potential, of more, we will have perfect comfort, security and happiness. Join ME! 8 months ago

I think we are finding a balance. Again. And it is right. More right. Not less. More. I feel it. 8 months ago

which wished not to discuss origins of said g-b-ness. So I pulled the g-b close. I always will. I think it helped. I hope it did. I know it did me. 8 months ago

I want you about, a lot.

I already am. And I will be. She said, for the next while this will wholly about me. I knew this, too, and know it well. Of course. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

She doesn’t have to say these things. But to say them, hear them, is comfort and promise, and so we do say them. I am of her, in our way, at this time, more than I have ever been any one thing. I am support, more. I offer all. I am her mate and built for this.

And then she said, Later, it will be your turn, ours.

Yup. She does love me as much as I love her. 9 months ago

Tonite, I want to continue exploring you.9 months ago

Can ya wash a few things? A spot of clothes detergent? Care?

Yup! It’s an honour. We can name the real estate too: Trust House

And I put ‘em out to line dry knowing that for he brief time they are out, if anyone sees, they’ll think like me.

Trust House. Luckiest man in the world he is. 10 months ago

everything when I am with you: the five senses, emotions, intellect, preludes and movements and instincts. You are my ball room, gymnasium, anatheum, concert hall, cafe, past and future. Our presence, together, means all to me.

When I have the perfect comforts and confidences of you, knowing we fit in ways I’ve never conceived, heard, suspected, and then you show me more, I can only respond in kind. It is what we are.

It is the trust, you know. That deep, solid foundation of us, that allows us to grow and let go. It means there has never been a no, not that. It means there is always a yes, and more too. It is beyond even the best ever known. It is spiritual.

We are a state of grace darling. I love you, us. I love you. 12 months ago

As we sped through the lots, ways, means, we listened to the radio and a Beatles song of some rambling (stylistically) came along and shook. I was confused, and one does not wipe-and-hold a driver behind the wheel, but an explanation came and I was relieved it was not me.

Then, yseterday, quite by happenstance, I found a movie called Across The Universe which is rather a modern rock opera of the late 1960s based on Beatles music. It is compelling and original and I was sucked, sucked, sucked into watching by the appearance of Joe Cocker and others, and thought of her and loved her all the more. It was a Julie Taymore movie, but a Rat production, and for both reasons meaningful. 12 months ago

She adores word play too, and I do this well, and proficiently, and have been remiss.

I have been busy and thinking of other things as well as her. But tonight, after supper, I sat down and made time for wordsforher.

The kind that she likes. Poetry of a sort, though know poet am I.
It is the nature of how I like to put thoughts together, sometimes four or five at once, by selecting entendres, synonyms, sound-alikes even like otomotopeas.

She’s a muse to me in this, the only I’ve ever known, and I never thought I’d have one.

Or could poet, until her.

I like words too. But I love her more. 12 months ago

trust. It runs through everything of us. It is absolute too, and the foundation of all the rest. It is the kind almost no adult ever knows. We spoke of it again, and how easy it comes, and how cherished it is. And we are the same. 14 months ago

I do not blame them. They are we and we do what we do.

There is something behind them, or in front of them. I do not know, but it is not of them.

And if we look past the corporate aspect to people, we see that there is a wide gulf between men and women about what this day means. I want to look past that too, because men and women do not live in isolation or for a single day. Real love means acknowledegement of the day to me. Not a gulf, but unity.

On this day I can (and will) take a beautiful woman, a perfect partner, into my arms and tell her that my soul is of her. All of it.

She will receive the corporate from me, and know the rest, the cultural. I love her and want her to know some of this, and she will.

I will too for she has expressed herself in effort, her art and thoughts, her words, on my behalf. She matches all that I am am and all that is expected though I expect nothing corporate or societal.

On this day of celebrating love though, we know it is the unspoken knowlege that we can celebrate our life, our want, our perfect happiness, our love. I love most that she treasures, and always will, me. As I do her.

Hear: I love you Darling, your very soul, all of you, top to bottom and stem to stern, as you do mine and me. I love _knowing _ this, of us.

I love you. 15 months ago

A solid 11 hours last night. Pure, clean, restful. My hours got shared and purposed up in the best ways possible last week and now I am restored in all. Darling? MTE, TIKNH. 16 months ago

A close friend, over dinner, was told by Darling “Your Mum is my second Mother.” The response, “May I tell her?” was sincere and full of love, and accompanied by the recollection of a small favour Darling, decades ago, provided to the friend’s mother. The mother lived a life of so very few favors of any sort. Darling’s made a life-lasting impression and is a Second Daughter as a result of this single instance, and many more to follow.

Darling and I, from the earliest times of us, discussed the huge potential of small. At Christmas she told me again how much she loves what we are. Small looks and touches and reaches, that I make sure that small things she likes are at hand for her.

She does the same for me.

The vignette reminded me again of how so many of us take and take, cordial and polite for the smalls of life but not seeing them as more the way Second Mother did.

It perhaps is a lesson learned by those who aren’t loved in small ways and that is a shame.

Recently she ran to meet me, far away, to a place I marched to, far away, for a very small thing, nd a very huge moment. I did it because small is fundamental. So did she. A very big small.

There is a future, now, of so much small that it is huge and never ending. The best ever imagined. Perfect, for small is our path, and well chosen, and why I love her. 16 months ago

in so many words, that our many explorations will never, ever end, that many discoveries will prove so perfect they will be forever cherished, by us, as one, and that new ones will always be made. 17 months ago

leans gently back upon me I gather her gently to me. She is loved and desired and wanted. So am I. We are in perfect peace and there is more love than ever known. 18 months ago